Harry Potter and the Wavewalkers
by Warrior of Ice and Shadow
Summary: Harry finds the sole survivor of the Ancient and Most Noble Family of Wavewalker, Jessica Wavewalker, who is severely abused. He will be happy, but there's something from the vaults of the past that will interfere... Intelligent!Powerful!Happy!Harry, Abused!Powerful!OC. Harry/OC. Rating is per chapter. Highest is the total rating.


**_AN: I only own Jessica Wavewalker, and possibly whatever else I decide to add in as well. If you recognize it, I don't own it! This chapter would be rated T. Swearing will be in later Chapters._**

**_Rating: _T**

Chapter One: Behind Cyan Eyes

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.

There was a crash behind Dudley and Harry, and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands – now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you – I'm armed!" There was a pause. Then -

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. A girl followed him, and she had to be at least twelve years old, but her cyan eyes had an almost dead look. Her hair, which was so black that it had dark blue highlights, was down to her waist, and was tied back in a low ponytail. The giant bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back onto its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey. . . ." The girl, apparently taking the request as an order, walked over to the fireplace, and after fiddling with the material for a bit, shook her head, removed the bags, then, out of nowhere, placed firewood in the fireplace. Uncle Vernon overreacted, and the rifle went off with a loud _bang!_ She gave a cry of pain and terror, clutching her side, where the metal slug had torn through her, but managed to get the fire going, as well as start the water, working through the vicious pain that was slowly taking her over.

She sidled into the corner next to the fireplace, her right hand clamped on the exit wound, but was still bleeding out. She gave a soft, almost rueful smile before she fainted from bloodloss and pain. The giant hurried over to her, and picked her up, before waving at Harry. "Come on!" said the giant urgently. "If I don't get her medical help right now she'll die!"

Harry got up and ran over, before looking at her, worried by how pale she was. The giant said, "Grab on, and make sure that you get a good grip."

Harry latched onto him like a burr, but was unprepared for what was going to happen next. Hagrid got onto a massive black motorbike, carefully settling the girl in front of him. In a spur of the moment decision, Harry slung himself around, and between the giant and the girl, and clamped both hands on either side of the wound, pressing as hard as he could, making her gasp in pain, but stopped the bloodloss. The giant didn't wait very long, he revved the bike, and they launched off of the island, onto the mainland, and then roared down the streets of London. After almost an hour and a half they reached a large, old-fashioned, red brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. The place had a shabby, miserable air; the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standing at random and modeling fashions at least ten years out of date. Large signs on all the dusty doors read CLOSED FOR REFERBISHMENT. Harry distinctly heard a large woman with plastic shopping bags say to her friend as they passed, "It's _never_ open, that place..."

The giant quickly headed up to a window displaying nothing but a particularly ugly female dummy whose false eyelashes were hanging off and who was modeling a green nylon pinafore dress. The giant muttered, "Emergency, a charge was shot and is in desperate need of medical attention."

For a split second, Harry thought how absurd it was for the giant to expect the dummy to hear the giant talking that quietly through a sheet of dusty glass, when there were buses rumbling along behind him and all the racket of a street full of shoppers. Then he reminded himself that dummies could not hear anyway. Next second his mouth opened in shock as the dummy gave a tiny nod, beckoned its jointed finger, and the giant immediately stepped through. They had arrived in a crowded reception area where rows of of men and women sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of a magazine that appeared to be titled _Witch Weekly_. A witch in lime-green robes walked up to them, spotted how tightly Harry was holding the girl, and Harry whispered, "She was shot by my Uncle. The bullet passed right through where my hands are."

The witch jumped in shock, and shouted, "Emergency! I need a team of Healers here, now!" About ten men and women ran forward, sticks drawn, and they started waving them over the girl, specifically where Harry's hands were, as he wouldn't remove them. The results of whatever they got from the waving worried them quite a bit, as they immediately grabbed the girl, forced Harry's hands off of the wound, and quickly wrapped it in bandages that appeared out of nowhere, before setting her on a stretcher that also appeared out of nowhere, then they ran off. The giant said, "Come on, Harry. We're going to the waiting room," as he set his hand on Harry's shoulder, and steered him after the group. They reached a specific room that the team had passed through, and the giant waved him to a seat near the doors, before sitting down himself.

"I'm sorry yeh had to find ou' like this," said the giant, sighing.

"Find out what?" asked Harry, utterly confused.

"Yer a wizard, Harry," said the giant, eyes locked on the door. He flashed Harry a half-hearted grin, but just then, a man wearing the same lime-green robes of the woman from earlier came out of the room, and made a beeline for them.

"I'm Apprentice-Healer Michael Stormfront," he said. "The girl you brought in is being healed as we speak, but here's a list of all of the things that we found using our diagnostic charms." He passed a set of scrolls to Hagrid, who paled at the number.

Patient Name: Unknown

Patient Age: Twelve and a half years old

Injury List (Past and present):

Raped multiple times

Beaten multiple times (Healed by magic)

Multiple broken bones (No medical treatment, healed with magic)

Multiple cuts, lashes, and lacerations (No medical treatment, healed with magic)

Harry read the name, age, and the first four injuries of the list, and had to withhold a gag. _Twelve and a half years old, she's been raped, beaten, had so many broken bones that it was just tagged multiple, as well as cuts, lashes, and lacerations, and not one of those things were medically treated?_ He knew it wasn't as uncommon as one would think, he was a prime example. He scanned the list, his heart sinking, until he reached the summary. _Patient has been mistreated in every sense of the word, as well as abused, physically and sexually. Will have to do a psyche analysis to check her psyche._

Harry looked up, tears tracing their way down his face, and softly asked, "May I go in so she's not alone?"

Apprentice-Healer Stormfront looked astonished. "She's not alone, though," he said, confused.

Harry shook his head. "I grew up in a similar environment," he said. "The injuries are probably the same, but I need to be there for her."

Stormfront looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded. "Follow me," he said. Together, they stepped into the room, and Harry bolted to the table with the girl. He took her hand, holding it gently, which made her relax slightly, much to their surprise. A soft sigh escaped her lips, in the form of, "Jessica."

"Jess," said Harry, softly, "you'll be okay. I'm here." She slipped into a deep slumber, as a strange golden energy started to crackle over her, and the hole left by the bullet vanished, as though it had never happened. Harry picked her upper body up, slipped himself behind her, and settled her head in his lap. He started to play with Jessica's hair, which was oddly calming, and a soft whisper reached his ears. "You have about a thousand years to stop doing that." Harry jumped, and looked down at her slightly amused cyan eyes, which had a slight tinge of fear for speaking. He gave a soft smile, which she shyly returned, but he didn't stop stroking her hair. They stayed like that for several hours, in which they got to know each other very well. Harry was astonished at how much of her past was at least _similar_ to his own. Finally, she said, "Would you like to know my last name?" Harry felt foolish, and said, "Before you give me your last name, Jess, I'd like to give you my full name, if you don't mind." Jessica looked up at him, waiting.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said. "Nice to meet you, Jessica." "Jessica Wavewalker," she whispered, "a pleasure, Harry." "Wavewalker?" asked Harry, interested.

Jessica nodded, blushing. "I'm the last of the Wavewalkers," she said, her voice a whisper. He'd figured out by then that normal volume was as close to shouting as she could get, but her 'default' volume setting was a whisper.

Harry nodded understanding. "I'm the last Potter, I think," he said, understanding. The door slammed open, and Harry looked up, barely restraining the urge to jump out of his skin.

"Time to go!" said the man who stepped into the room. Jessica froze, trembling in fear. "Come on, Jessica. It's time to go home."

"Please," she whispered, the terror in her voice clear. "Please, help me, Harry!" "Sir," said Harry. "She seems to be terrified of you. I'm afraid that you'll have to leave." "I'm her guardian!" snapped the man, pompously.

Something snapped within Harry. "Does that give you clearance to physically, emotionally, and sexually abuse her?" hissed Harry furiously. "To work her harder than even a slave would? To knowingly force her into activities she didn't want to go into?" His face was filled with fury.

Jessica finally spoke up again, "I'm severing myself from you forever. Now, leave!" The amount of power behind the last words made it a command, and the energy that had filled the room forced him out of it.

Harry was thinking furiously, then asked aloud, "Was that man magical or not?" "Squib," said the witch in lime-green that followed him in. "Born to magical parents, with little to no magic of their own. That was Miss Wavewalker's guardian, and he is a most irritating man." "Can we go now?" asked Harry. The witch nodded. Harry gave her a thankful smile, before carefully standing, pulling Jessica to her feet. Together, they left the ward Jessica had been transferred to, and met up with the giant, who had introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid. They stepped out of the hospital, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. "And off we go!" said Hagrid, cheerfully.

Jessica gave him a weak smile, tightly holding Harry's hand. Together, the three of them headed out.


End file.
